


The Story of the Shrine

by Findarato



Category: Dororo (Anime 2019)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Disturbing Themes, Episodic Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21843607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Findarato/pseuds/Findarato
Summary: “Anyone smart enough with families got out. There’s a curse going around.”“What kind of curse?”“I’m not telling you, you’re too young. You’d better leave, too.”Fic written for Yuletide 2019
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	The Story of the Shrine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tren/gifts).



> I chose to write “youkai of the week” fic, set loosely between episode 19 and 20 and in Hyakkimaru's POV.
> 
> Warning: I'm not sure if "canon-typical violence" and "disturbing themes" is enough; **there is content of violent revenge, implied cruelty, self-harm.** I've tried to keep it away from actual gore/graphicness, but seeing the actual anime has limbs and heads cut and fairly gruesome deaths, I hope this isn't too much.

The shapes moved. Unlike the wavering and bending of trees in the wind, or the undulating flow of a stream, people moved erratically. There's patterns, of course—an old man bent over carrying firewood, the unsteady trek of a toddler being pulled along by a mother, the direct and well-paced run of a samurai. They came and went. They spoke. They breathed. And they whispered.

Hyakkimaru knows he sticks out, for one reason or the other. Sometimes they mention his clothes, his lack of shoes, and the various bandages. More often than not, they're mumbling about his eyes and how he stares.

The carved, smoothness of his false eyes wasn't uncomfortable. He's learned to lower his head and glance away.

Next to him, Dororo keeps pace, skipping occasionally to make up for their different strides. Her lively voice is usually the first thing he hears when he wakes up and when he sleeps. Like him, she doesn't seem to care about what people think.

He asked once, why others judged?

"I'm not sure, but it's got something to do with how they live? They have a house and they own things and they don't starve, so they think they're better than us."

"Are they better?"

"All that matters is having money to do things with, and if it helps people. What's the point of being better if you just look down at others?"

Besides, if any of these people encountered a demon or monster, they'd be dead. Owning things wouldn't save them.

They're busy, anyway, at least. And being busy means more food and sleeping indoors.

**.**

Dororo is chatting up to people, asking if there's any troubles or strange things happening. They do this at every village or own, and he's long gotten used to waiting. Today they're at a town that, by Dororo's description, is decently-sized but oddly quiet.

"Lots of people left." A man, middle-aged by the sound of his voice and the shape of his shoulders stooping, chews between his words. They caught him in an alley after Dororo tried to speak to several people, without success.

"Just got up and left?"

"Anyone smart enough with families got out. There's a curse going around."

"What kind of curse?"

"I'm not telling you, you're too young. You'd better leave, too."

"Oh, don't worry." Dororo is straightening her back. "Aniki and me deal with this all the time! You could say curses don't affect us."

That's actually not ture, but when he senses the man looking at him, Hyakkimaru raises his head.

The man hums loudly. "You sure?"

"We're sure!"

"Hpmh. Don't say I didn't warn you." The man shoves more of whatever he's chewing between his teeth. "People keep dying. One day, Takano, the innkeeper, says he's got a pain in his mouth. By next week, his tongue's purple and he dies after he bites it off, screaming that it's a worm trying to eat him. Then there's the smith, Shoukou, who was making kitchen knives one moment and then he suddenly he's on the ground, saying a monster's in his stomach. We get him to lie down, but next morning, he's dead—and guess what? His stomach's been ripped open and it's empty."

"Ripped…open?" Dororo is inching back to Hyakkimaru.

"Completely open. No organs left. Some say he pissed off a samurai who got revenge, but I saw him myself, and it was either done by some giant animal, or he really had a monster in there. And that's not all of it."

"How many people died so far?"

"Dunno. Thirty? Forty? People started leaving after a midwife was strangled with—" He cuts himself off. "We called for some priests, but after one of them also died, they said there wasn't any hope."

"Why hasn't everyone left?"

"Like me? Where would I go?" The man laughs, the sound garbled in his throat. "If you tried to leave, you'd end up cursed, too. I'm here because my wife's buried in this town and I'm not leaving her."

Hyakkimaru shifts on his feet.

"But what if it happens to you next?"

"I'll kill myself before I die like that." Completely straight-faced, sound logic right there, all right. If you're mad or demon cursed, there's no way to stop it.

Dororo is next to Hyakkimaru now, shoulder pressed to his side. "Does anyone know what's causing the curse?"

"More like who. There's rumours that it always happens during the Hour of the Ox."

"What's so special about that?"

"You've never heard? That's when they say the border between us and the dead is the weakest. Anyone who knows how could use that time to call the curse down."

"Dororo." Hyakkimaru tugs on her hand and gestures; he's heard enough.

They scrounge up some food and sit on a bridge to eat. The height of the sun tells him it's a little past midday, and usually, a busy time of day.

But from the moment they entered this town, it felt…cold.

"Aniki." Dororo nudges his arm. "Eat more, I'm not hungry."

He pushes the food back and shakes his head.

Dororo eats again, slowly. She kicks her feet back and forth, and waves a bug away. "Aniki, what did you think—about what that man said?"

He tilts his head.

"Do you think a person's behind all this, or a demon? Or maybe it's multiple demons—can they work together? Maybe there's a whole group of them."

It could be.

"Do you really believe that about the Hour of the Ox? I've been awake for whole nights before and I never remember it being scarier than any other times of the night."

It's possible.

Hyakkimaru raises his head and lets the sunlight spill over his face. "Do you want to leave?"

"Leave?"

"Yes. Leave."

"But maybe you'll get your arms back—or your eyes. Or…whatever else you're missing?" Dororo stands. "We'll go after you've defeated whatever is here. That old man's probably exaggerating, anyway."

He was telling the truth, mostly. Hyakkimaru can tell.

The daytime will not reveal any more, and so it's going to be a wait.

**.**

There's plenty of abandoned houses, even ones with old blankets. After shaking them out, with much sneezing, they make a pile of them to sleep on.

Dororo refuses to make a fire. "It might draw attention," is her reasoning, "since we're staying up all night."

Correction—he's staying up all night. Dororo falls asleep soon enough, blanket pulled up her waist, softly snoring.

He puts two more over her entire body as he waits.

It's still. No wind, no crickets, no frogs. The moon glows, shifting slowly down the path of time.

When he gets up, he takes a drink of water first before slipping out.

He leaves his arms behind.

The streets are the same silence as earlier in the day. One or two lights, a few soul shapes here and there. Barricaded homes.

The chill grows stronger, and he follows it. The scent of blood and death, hidden before, grows with each step.

It's not too long before he finds the source of it; a shrine at the other end of the town with a tree. Instead of the usual green glow, there is the sickly, bright red of corruption spidering all across the expanse of the tree. He hides himself behind a house to wait some more.

Footsteps. _Clack-clack, clack-clack._ A shape appears, heading towards the shrine, gleaming red.

Human, like him.

But also not like him.

The shape wavers, the shoes clacking. Three spots of light, starkly brighter than the red, leaves trails in his soul-vision.

The sound of a hammer striking a nail. The crunch of bark. And then chanting. He's too far away to hear, but it's a woman's voice likely, high-pitched and breathy.

The red grows, wiggling and squirming from where the tree was nailed, and the chanting continues.

Hyakkimaru stands.

The tree explodes, and the demon crawling through, slowly taking form. This one is like a snake, gliding and hissing. For a moment, it curls around the woman, as if listening. And then it writhes away, leaving her still immersed in red, the lights on her head burning lower.

He steps away; the demon will kill, for sure. He'll deal with the woman later. The blood will be easy to find again.

Before dawn, he's nailed the demon to another tree, and cut it vertebrae by vertebrae. Unsurprisingly, this one does not give back his body.

He remembers to wade into the river before going back.

The blood trails away from his body, moving like the snake monster from earlier.

**.**

"I can't believe I slept through everything!" Dororo throws a blanket at him. "At least wake me up so I can build a fire to dry your clothes!"

He holds up one his bandages.

"I don't care if you're doing it now. You could get sick if you don't dry yourself."

Fine, he'll put the blanket over his head.

"That right, don't move until I come back." The door slams into the frame from the force of Dororo sliding it.

The blanket smells like radish and fish. He twists his clothes to wring the water and moves them closer to the fire.

Dororo returns soon enough, dropping a bundle of items. Food is shoved into his hands, while Dororo dries his hair and fills his ears with her complaints.

"So a woman is summoning them? Did you find out why?"

A shake of his head.

"I said don't move." A finger jabs his shoulder. "You got rid of the demon, but as long as she keeps doing it, people will keep dying."

"Yes."

"Maybe we should convince the rest of the people to leave. That way, she can't kill anyone."

"I'll find her."

"Aniki—"

He pulls away. "I'll find her."

Demons are easier than humans to deal with; it's always the humans that cause more troubles. Ignoring the loud complaints and protests directed at him, Hyakkimaru puts his clothes back on and goes out again.

"Damn it, aniki." Dororo drags her feet, but follows anyway. "Listen to me once in a while."

"I do."

"Only when you feel like it."

"I listen at the right times."

"Then let's leave."

"Now you want to leave?"

"Yes. So, can we?"

"No."

"Why?"

He pauses mid-stride, barely moving even when Dororo nearly stumbles into him. "She won't stop."

"What if we talked to her?"

When has that ever worked?

"I don't like it when you kill people, aniki."

"I have to." He leaves.

Less than twenty steps, and Dororo is running behind him again, though her stomping is clear she doesn't agree.

They walk through the entire town.

He can't find the woman.

However, they do find the man from the day before, once again chewing the squishy mess.

"You're still alive." Dororo says, as if Hyakkimaru hadn't killed the demon.

"Could say the same about you." A wet cough. "You really are serious about getting rid of the curse?"

"That's right! We don't leave a place until it's been cleared of its troubles and we've been paid." Her voice is nothing like her complains from earlier.

"Kid, hate to break it to you, but no one's actually here to pay you. Don't look at me—I've got nothing."

"Wellll, we also do this just because it's the right thing. Don't worry about the payment." Dororo is good at bluffing; if not for the fact Hyakkimaru can tell, she sounds perfectly normal. "But we're wondering if you could help us some more."

"More?"

"Aniki, can you describe the woman?"

"Candles. Her shoes were loud."

"…what?"

"Ah, what he means is the woman's got really noisy shoes and she was carrying a lot of candles."

"No, they were on her head."

"Right, the candles were on her head. Do you know anyone like that?"

"Nope. Candles on her head? That's a waste of candles."

"Old man, are you _sure_ you haven't seen anyone?"

"Sure of it."

Hyakkimaru grabs him by the front of his clothes. "No."

"Aniki…? Put him down—"

"You're lying."

The man splutters as he his feet dangle. "I'm not! I don't know nothing about any woman!"

"You smell like her." Fainter, but there's definitely the hint of blood and death. "Why?"

"I don't!"

Hyakkimaru holds him higher. "Why?" he presses.

" _Fine_." He sags. "B-because she's my wife."

Dororo gasps. "I thought you said your wife was dead?"

"She might as well be." The man turns his head and coughs. "Put me down and I'll tell you the whole damn thing."

**.**

It's the Hour of the Ox again. The chill is back, wrapping closely against his skin.

_'She married me, but her family didn't approve. Said I wasn't good enough because she was my second wife after my first one died from sickness. But we loved each other, so we married anyway and her family disowned her.'_

Dororo shivers next to him, knees drawn up to her chest. They're huddled in an empty house, the shrine tree just in his sights.

_'It was all right at first. They left us alone, and we were happy. I think a year passed before everything went bad.'_

Hyakkimaru raises his head.

_Clack-clack, clack-clack._

"Is it her?" Dororo breathes out, words shaking. "I can't see."

_'They found out she was pregnant, and so her brother, her very own damn brother, dragged her back to their home, and they got rid of the baby.'_

The glow of the candles is the same as yesterday.

_They kicked her out after two weeks. She wasn't the woman I married anymore. Not after that.'_

Dororo grips his hand so tightly that the wood creaks between her fingers.

_'Not only that; they made sure she'd never have children again. Can you blame her?'_

The hammer gleams in his spirit sight, seemingly.

_'So she killed them. I don't know how she did it, but she told me to never go with her unless I wanted to die. She said she cursed them. But she didn't stop there. She went after the midwife, even though she said it wasn't her fault, my wife killed her anyway.'_

He stands.

_'And then after that, it was anyone. She decided to curse the man that pushed her on the street, and then that gossiping hag next door. There was the shopkeeper that wouldn't give her a discount. And on and on.'_

"Aniki…"

_'Every night, she comes back. She knows I know. But I can't do anything, even though I should.'_

Briefly, he rests his hand on top of Dororo's head. "Stay here."

_'I can't stop her. But you can, can't you?'_

He unsheathes his blades and pushes the door open with his foot. The wood scrapes, catches, and then completely falls. There's the sound of wind in his ears, with the anxious gasp from Dororo backing it. He runs, blades outstretched.

_'Please. Please do it for me. Stop her.'_

The woman shrieks and falls, excepting to be slashed. But that's not his intention. It's the straw human-shaped thing that's between her feet, fallen and glowing red.

He stabs it through—once, twice, and cuts it in pieces.

The red shatters.

"No!" Cold fingers on his ankle, clawing upwards. "No! How dare you!" The shriek is loud and hurts his ears; he kicks.

"Aniki!" Dororo stands a short distance away, limbs and voice trembling. "You did it, it's over."

"No," he says. Not yet.

The woman's fingers are cutting into him, and he kicks again. She falls away, and staggers up against the tree.

He can't kill her; not with the tree here.

"It's not over—" The woman, no longer adorned in candles, holds nails in her hands. "It's not over until I'm done with all of them!"

Hyakkimaru looks at her.

"They took everything away from me." Blood appears between her fingers, a different shade of crimson from the demons. "I'm trying to take back what's _mine_."

"You can't." Not like this.

"As if you can understand."

He opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, she's stabbed herself through her hand and into the tree.

"So I'll have to show you." Quiet, unlike the screaming earlier. "If I'm doomed, then so are you." Red and more red swirls about, and swallows her form completely before transforming.

Monsters tried to be larger, as if that was an advantage.

But he's used to it, since from the first one he has ever killed, they've always towered over him. No matter how large, how fast, how powerful—they'll fall to him, eventually.

**.**

He waits for a second or two.

There is no sudden crescendo of pain in his body. Only a throbbing ache from when he was flung away wildly more than once.

"Sorry, aniki." Dororo offers him his arms. "Not here, either."

The woman is on the ground, surrounded in a halo of fading red.

"Boy," she gasps out, "you…were already cursed, weren't you?"

Hyakkimaru lifts his head.

A thick gurgle makes the blood flow faster. "I didn't have a chance against you. But it's fine…I was—" cough, "running out of people, anyway."

"We heard—about what happened." Dororo stays close to Hyakkimaru still. "But some of these people didn't have anything to do with it. Why did you kill them, too?"

"You try living with people who listen to false rumours." The woman spits out a mouthful of blood. "They hated me as much as I hated them."

Dororo shrinks. "Oh."

"It's better like this." And then she's gone, spirit fading into nothing.

There's always a silence afterwards.

Dororo won't look directly at him. "We have to tell him. The old man," she says, Hyakkimaru's arms clutched to her chest.

Do they? But he's already being tugged by the hand.

"I don't care that he told you to do it. She was hurt by her family!" Her voice goes up a pitch. "It's not fair."

"Nothing is fair," Hyakkimaru replies as he sheathes his blades, "Not in life."

"I know. But we're trying to be."

Is he? He's just trying to get his body back. His number of kills for monsters is uncountable, and his number of kills for humans is more than twenty, probably. He's not keeping count.

"Aniki." Dororo stops in front of Hyakkimaru. "Will you at least let me _try_ to talk first, if you won't?"

"No. It's too dangerous." He goes around Dororo.

"Only to the humans?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Humans hurt more than monsters."

"Is this about your brother? Your father?"

He keeps walking. Dororo already knows the answer, so why should he have to reply?

" _Aniki_." The force of one small frame slams into his back, and arms encircle his waist. "I'm scared for you."

Why? Is it so wrong that he has a goal? But Dororo doesn't let go.

"Don't be scared. I have you."

"But what if something happens to me? What'll happen to you?"

He turns and bends down, and with the best of his abilities, cups her face. It's so small, in his hands. He can't see the expression she's making, or feel it, but she's very much distressed.

"Dororo. I'll protect you with my everything." He slowly stands. "That's why I need the rest of my body."

"But you have to be careful how you do it."

"I know." The more parts he obtains, the more human his body is. "Let's go."

**.**

They tell the man.

He thanks them.

And then he sheds tears, many, many tears.

Finally, he hands them a small pouch. "That's all I have," he says, before wiping his eyes. "And now I can join her."

Eight gold pieces, Dororo counts, when they leave. It will last for some time.

"Aniki." The gold jingles in Dororo's hand.

"Yes."

"Have you thought about what you'll do after you get your body back?"

He nods.

"What's the first thing you want to see?"

"You."

"Wha—don't tease!"

"It's true." He pauses, and points directly at Dororo. "You."

"Anikiiiii." Dororo stomps a foot, obviously flustered. She suddenly runs forward. "I'm going ahead. Try to keep up with me if you can!"

Of course he can.

But he chooses to keep his stride, in order to watch her. For such a small body, she has a heart larger than his. Her spirit, pale and lithe, is warmer than any other spirit.

Nothing will happen to her. He'll make sure of it.

**.end.**

**Author's Note:**

> Demon information/inspiration from: http://yokai.com/ushinokokumairi/


End file.
